Chapter 57 Never the Prize
“…And why do you allow it?” Avery asked.
Her gaze dropped to the strong, veined hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Before he could withdraw, she reached out and caught his hand. He looked down at where her fingers wrapped around his, then lifted his blindfolded face toward her, his expression blank and unreadable.
Her lips curved into a small smile as she drew his hand to her face, pressing it against her skin, rubbing her cheek along his palm before leaning in to kiss the back of his hand.
Then she looked up at him, coy.
“Why do you reject me when I’m meant to be your wife?” Avery said, pressing herself closer until their bodies were flush. She felt the hard plane of his chest against hers, and a cold shiver slid down her spine, her stomach flipping unexpectedly.
Fear and excitement tangled together.
Ravial’s expression did not change. He did not pull away. Instead, he lifted his hand and cupped her face. Avery closed her eyes, leaning into the touch. His hand slid to her jaw and suddenly tightened.
Her eyes snapped open. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Still, his face remained carved from stone. No reaction. No heat.
The absence unsettled her more than anger would have.
This man was unknowable. The blindfold only sharpened that truth, though Avery suspected that even without it, he would be worse. Perhaps it was protecting her.
She pressed herself against him again, grounding her body against his solidity. He did not respond. He did not harden. He was unmoved, massive and immovable, like stone.
“I don’t reject you,” he said at last, his voice smooth, refined, empty of inflection.
“I simply have no use for you.”
Her breath caught.
“Why? Am I not beautiful?” Avery asked, searching his face for something, anything and finding nothing.
“You are,” he replied, his tone cold and detached. She heard the truth in it. He had no reason to lie.
“Then why do you treat me like I’m nothing?” she pressed. “I’m educated. Brilliant. Refined. I speak better than her. I am the perfect wife meant to stand beside you.”
Desperation bled into her voice.
Ravial saw everything he needed to.
“You are nothing to me,” he said calmly. “Even with everything you listed.”
His thumb pressed lightly beneath her jaw not a caress, not a threat. An evaluation. Avery’s breath stuttered, but she did not pull away.
“You mistake qualification for worth,” he said. “You believe standing beside me is something you earn by polishing yourself.”
A pause.
“I do not choose companions,” Ravial continued. “I tolerate presences.”
Her breath trembled.
“You exist because circumstance placed you here,” he finished, his voice silk-smooth and merciless. “Not because you were wanted.”
Then, softly, precisely…
“And if you vanished tomorrow, nothing in my world would shift.”
“Education. Brilliance. Refinement,” he went on, conversational, as if discussing weather. “These are tools. Useful. But tools do not move me.”
His thumb traced her cheekbone once, clinical.
“You were designed to be the perfect accessory. Polished. Articulate. Capable of standing beside power without embarrassing it.”
He tilted his head.
“That is why your father chose you.
Why he sold you.”
Avery’s eyes flashed, but she said nothing.
Ravial leaned in a fraction.
“But I do not need an accessory.
I do not need perfection that serves a purpose.”
His fingers tightened just enough to remind her who held control.
“I need what cannot be manufactured.
What cannot be taught, bought, or negotiated.”
He released her jaw.
“You are replaceable,” he said evenly. “She is not.”
Color drained from Avery’s face.
Ravial stepped back, creating distance without effort.
“You may stay,” he said. “Play the role your sister desires. Give her the family she mourns.”
His voice dropped, colder still.
“Or leave. And discover how quickly irrelevance becomes disappearance.”
He turned toward the door.
At the threshold, he paused without looking back.
“Choose quickly.”
The door closed behind him with a soft, final click.
Avery stood alone in the aftermath, the chill of his words settling deep. The realization struck with suffocating force, she had never been the prize.
And she would never get what she wanted.
Tears spilled freely as she dropped to her knees, her chest tightening as though her heart were being torn apart. His words had cut deep, but worse was the helpless truth beneath them, there was nothing she could do to save the people depending on her.
A sob tore from her throat. She clutched her chest, her body shaking as tears soaked her dress and dotted the floorboards.
She didn’t notice the figure watching her.
Watching with fascination.
Avery lifted her head, eyes red and swollen. “I’ve failed you, Leroy,” she whispered toward the window. “I’ve failed… and there’s nothing I can do.”
The figure below smiled faintly.
“Leroy,” the figure murmured, tasting the name.
Avery rose slowly, still staring at the window.
“I’d rather join you now,” she said softly. “Every day is a nightmare.”
She pulled the blinds aside and slid the window open. The figure watched, interest sharpening into anticipation, as she climbed onto the sill, one leg dangling over the edge.
Realization dawned.
Avery closed her eyes, letting the breeze brush her skin. Then she looked up at the sky and smiled.
“I’m coming,” she whispered.
And she jumped.